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Musical Goddess



Aeron Nerezzo


 


The first thing that hit Aeron was the smell. He groaned, rubbing his head. What was he lying on? That wasn’t his bed. His bed was comfortable, moulded to his body shape. Whatever he was lying on was hard, uncomfortable. He coughed, gagging at the smell assailing his nose. He forced his eyes open, which stung. His entire body ached, he could hear weird things, but that smell… He’d smelled it before. He’d been cooking with his older sister, and her hair had set on fire. The smell had been god awful, the most disgusting thing. The smell of burning hair, that was what he smelled. But there was something else. Similar, but almost worse. Skin. The smell of burning skin. He forced himself to his feet, stumbling slightly. He was on dirt, that was the uncomfortable surface, right off of a beach. And in front of him was the smoldering remains of the plane he’d boarded a few hours before, in several pieces. He stumbled forward, shock crashing into him like a brick. All around him were people, so many people. On the ground, holding various, gruesome wounds, screaming in pain, crying over bodies.


 


Aeron Nerezzo was a name most people recognized. He was an actor, and a very well known one. He’d been doing movies since he could speak, doing a couple baby roles, many children roles, and countless roles as an adult. He was the kind of actor that could fit anywhere with the right accent and the right makeup. He was flexible, he wasn’t picky, he was easy to work with. He was prepared for a lot of things. He’d boarded a flight in Chicago, his hometown, to visit his sister in London. He’d expected it to be a pretty easy flight, maybe some turbulence. He hated flying, he always had. The person next to him always recognized him, tried to sneakily take pictures of him, was all around annoying. That flight had been the exception, it’d been relatively peaceful. He’d actually enjoyed it, flirting with the stewardess and everything. He was prepared for a lot. But looking at that beach, surrounded by those people. It was too much. He fell to his knees, holding his stomach as the contents of it left his body amid gags and groans. Once he was finished vomiting, he pushed himself back to his feet, seeing a woman on the ground in front of him. He remembered her. Blonde hair, covered in a beanie, she looked a lot funner than she’d acted. It was clear she was educated, he’d sat across from her on the plane. She’d read a large book about medical procedures, and hadn’t smiled once.


 


He fell down beside her, grabbing her arm and shaking it. “Hey. Hey! Are you okay?” He asked loudly, getting no response. He slapped her face gently, and she slowly opened her eyes, looking up at him uncomprehendingly. “You’re a doctor, right?” He asked, and she nodded.


 


“A surgeon. Why, what-- what’s that smell?” She coughed, looking around. The confusion in her eyes turned to horror when she saw the evidence of the crash.



 


Addison Waters


 


Addison’s neck ached. So did her back. And her entire body, now that she was complaining. But she didn’t have time. She surged to her feet and pushed past the young, very familiar looking guy who’d woken her up, and surveyed the crash. She was a surgeon. She had worked as a resident in one the of busiest E.R.s around, Angels Memorial in L.A. She could file information in her head to be sorted later, and the fact that she’d been in a plane crash was a later thought. A now thought was the fact that there were injured people around, and they needed her help. She turned to the young guy, pulling him to his feet. “Do you know anything about first-aid?” She demanded, and he shot her a panicked look.


 


“I’m an actor, not a doctor! I don’t know shit about first-aid.” He insisted, and she lifted one finger.


 


“You’re in shock, I understand that. You have to relax, or you could pass out. One quick lesson. If someone is bleeding, since we don’t have much in the way of bandages at the moment, rip off a strip from their shirt and use it to staunch the bleeding, okay? That’s your job. If you need more help, call for me. My name is Addison, I’ll come, okay?” She told him, and he nodded. “What’s your name?”


 


“Aeron. I’ll go… Do that.” He muttered, taking off at a sprint toward the group of people. Addison looked around, trying to find someone who was in immediate danger. Everyone around the plane, of course. It was a huge fire risk. But her focus was more on wounds. One quick glance to Aeron showed he had the common sense to move to an elderly woman and guide her away from the wreckage and away from possible smoke inhalation. Good man. She took off toward a man who was huddled over another man, who looked almost exactly like him. The one who was on top looked perfectly fine, while the one on the ground wasn’t moving.


 


“Hey, what’s wrong?” She demanded, falling to her knees beside the two and looking at the man on the ground. She didn’t need an answer, it was pretty clear.


 


“It… It crashed! Caleb… He isn’t moving.” The unharmed guy said, flustered.


 


“Breathe. What’s your name?” Addison asked. She had a reason for asking, aside from having something to call him. If he couldn’t recall, it was a sign of shock, and he could be in as much danger as who she assumed was his brother.


 


“Adrian. He’s my brother.” The guy said, taking a deep breath as he confirmed her theory.


 


“Okay, Adrian. Your brother will be okay.” Addison promised, hoping she wasn’t lying. Caleb wasn’t breathing noticeably, a chunk of shrapnel sticking out from his gut. It was a dangerous wound, still oozing blood.


 


Adrian and Caleb Williams


 


Adrian looked at the woman, inwardly begging her to move. She just kept looking at the metal in Caleb’s stomach, not doing anything to remove it. “Should we get it out?” He demanded, making her jump slightly.


 


“No! Do not remove it. In this situation, he’d die. We just need to stabilize him while we wait for rescue, okay? First step is to check for a pulse. I’m going to do that. If he does wake up, keep him still.” The woman ordered. She reached out and touched Caleb’s neck, focusing for a moment. “He has a pulse, but it’s weak, and uneven. CPR will help, but it will also increase his bleeding, and could kill him. Okay, tear open his shirt.” She ordered, and he immediately obeyed, tearing open his brother’s shirt and removing it awkwardly. She took it from his hands and pressed it around the metal, probably to try and stop the bleeding.


 


“What now?” He asked, trying to calm enough so he didn’t pass out. He didn’t care about the crash, he cared about his brother, who could die.


 


“Now, we wait for the bleeding to stop while we check for other wounds, and then we start CPR to try to steady out his pulse. You check for breathing, I’ll check for wounds.” She instructed, and he leaned down so his cheek was inches from his brother’s open mouth, straining to feel any exhalation from him. After a few moments, he felt the lightest of breaths touch his cheek, and sagged with relief.


 


“He’s breathing.” He informed her.



“The rest of his wounds look superficial, just cuts and scrapes. He’s as lucky as he can get with this metal in him. Okay. Do you know how to do CPR?” She asked him, and he nodded. She gestured toward his brother’s chest, and he immediately started compressions as he’d been taught when he was younger, when he’d trained to be a lifeguard for his summer job.


 

 
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Arielle DeVito


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Last thing she remembered was the fact that she was simply minding her own business, doing what she enjoyed doing in the world. Sketching. Tattoo designs to be exact. The next thing was turbulence. After that, nothing. Blackness. Blackness that still remained. The female was barely seen under all the debris that she was buried in. Buried under seats that have detached themselves with the impact. Being knocked out cold as her head hit the seat that was in front of her and pretty roughly at that which opened her the side of her temple.  Blood dripped from her slash, the seats were towered on top of her. Barely even visible.


The pressure of the seats were crushing her body, her pale skin bruised with all the initial hits she had received with the crash. She was passed out but the lack of oxygen that was reaching her lungs was limited. The risk of her lungs shutting down was slightly increasing.  Nothing of the body was visible, that was nothing but the palm of her hand, her wrist which had a thin silver chain.


If she was conscious enough to see this she would simply laugh at her luck.


Mentions & Conversing with N/A


Cassandra Moore Goft


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Her eyes slowly fluttered open as she let out a loud gasp as her lungs refilled with oxygen. The female was flat on her back which is the reason why she almost got all the life sucked out of her, thankfully enough her landing was not as harsh and major as some of those around her. A sudden splitting headache caused her to groan as she sat up. Looking around her everything was a wreck. It was horrifying. Debris everywhere, people running around trying to aid other people, unconscious and more or less lifeless bodies as well.


However as she registered what has happened she struggled up her feet. Her cousin, Gail. She was travelling with her cousin – visiting some family members that had been residing in Brighton, however they were going to take the train from London. Both females were separated on the flight as they booked late they didn’t find seats that were near one another. She started frantically searching for the blonde, “Gail! Gail!” she shouted as she passed through the debris.


As she nearly gave up the female saw a familiar head, white blonde hair covered with a beanie, it was he cousin laying flat on the ground. Running to her side she knelt beside her and turned her on her back, as she was laid on her front. She gulped and gently smacked her cheeks for her that she was alive, placing two hand by her pulse, she sighed in relief. She was alive. “Gail,” she nudged gently, “Gail wake up. Please."


Mentions & Conversing with @Iskolde (Gail)


Aria Mikami
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This was not something she had on her agenda, certainly not. If anything she had no doubt that it wasn’t part of any passenger’s agenda. Being one of the people who was flying near the back of the plane, with the impact it had it landed in the water. That was the worse part for Aria, the water. She had been conscious through the action when the metal of the tail had combusted into bits as metal pieces sailed out on the sea surfaces. She was utterly surprised she had survived.


Feeling herself immersed under water Aria panicked, she didn’t know how to swim but she struggled to try and reach the surface. She tried to get her face up out of the water as she gasped for air, reaching for the nearest floating thing she could find, a piece of metal that had been floating by. It was not the right kind of buoy but at least it somewhat kept her above water. She felt trapped. Not knowing how to swim the female was washing with the currents. Further and further away. She was scared and alone.


The island was slowly getting smaller and smaller as she looked towards it she couldn’t even find the strength to yell. The coldness of the water was leaving her out of breath as for her effort to stay afloat and not drown did not help one bit, “Help!” the female let out but doubted it was loud enough. She kept herself attached to the metal in hopes someone spotted her before she drifted off to the ocean. Being a marine biologist the female knew what roamed these seas and as excited she usually was to see such species, being in the water was not the time to meet them.


Mentions & Converses with N/A


Solange Montgomery
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How excited she was that she finally had the time to go an re-unite with her daughter back in London, something she had finally come to accept and live with for the rest of her life. To be the mother she had neglected to be when her Faith was only about to become one. She was overwhelmed by it that she wanted to give it her all. Solange was not a person who commits easily in fact if you had to ask her what she fears commitments would be the first thing. Not nowadays, that had taught her quite the lesson. Cause of that she had missed 3 years of her little girl’s life.


The female had been looking out of the plane’s window however the view had been covered by the giant wing, the same giant wing that was resting, more like crushing her limbs. She had dozed off on the flight however with the impact it was a huge wake up call. It was as if she blacked out and woke up within a snap of a finger. The only difference was that she found herself flat on her back looking up at the sky. Numb, her lower half all numb, as if she couldn’t feel a thing.


Looking over her chest and to her legs, Solange practically screamed out when she saw the what seemed to be a long slab that was attached to the wing covering her lower limbs, crushing them. No wonder she wasn’t feeling her legs. The pressure was too great to deny. She tried not to panic, tried not to but this was not how she envisioned her flight to be. All that was on her mind is how was she going to Faith? Where had they crashed? What happened? Her mind was simply thinking of Faith when herself was simply in pure agony that was going to hurt like a bitch once the wing was removed.


Crying in pain she lowered her head back down trying to ignore it but that was not something easily done. She was going to yell for help but she didn’t know if removing it would be better or worse, she didn’t know what injuries it had been causing her legs. All she knew that the plane’s wing did not make a good piece of clothing.


Mentions & Conversing with N/A
 
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Hunter and Skye Alya




“Oh, fuck.” Hunter groaned, sitting up slowly and looking around, rubbing his head. Unlike most in his situation, he wasn’t confused, and he wasn’t scared. His entire life, he’d hoped for the best, but shamelessly prepared for the worst. The second he’d boarded the plane, he knew there was a possibility of it crashing. “Skye?” He called, looking around. Everywhere around him was disaster. Some girl and a guy were crowded around a guy with metal sticking out of his gut, a guy was lifting metal off of a girl’s leg, people were hurt everywhere. “Skye!” He called again, getting to his feet and wincing. His chest ached and felt slightly wet, but he ignored it. He looked around for his sister, and finally spotted her a few feet away, on the shore, half of her being hit by the waves. He jogged over and knelt beside her, checking her pulse and sighing quietly when he felt one. He dragged her away from the wreckage and the water, gently slapping her face. She jerked awake, and he barely recoiled in time to avoid getting headbutted. “Woah, breathe. Are you okay? Wounded?” He asked her calmly.


“... Am I okay?! The plane freaking crashed!” Skye all but screeched, making him wince slightly.


“Yes, I’d noticed. But are you okay?” He repeated.


“I… I don’t know. My head hurts. And I’m cold.” She muttered, and he nodded.


“That makes sense. Just sit here, wait for that to subside a little.” Hunter suggested, looking around. His eyes fixed on something in the water, a woman stranded out there, holding onto a piece of metal. “I’ll be right back.” He muttered, jogging back toward the water as he kicked off his boots and pulled off his shirt before sprinting into the water in nothing but his jeans, diving in when it got deeper and swimming powerfully toward the woman, making it to her within three minutes, panting for breath. “Hey, are you okay? Come on, I’m going to pull this to the shore. Hold on to it.” He suggested, pushing his wet hair out of his face. He looked over at shore, trying to estimate the distance. Really freaking far. Right.


He took a deep breath, getting a good grip on the chunk of debris she was floating on and starting to awkwardly swim back, which took a lot more effort than swimming out to her. He only had one arm, since the other was gripping the debris, his legs having limited mobility to the debris. But he did his best. He’d been hit by some debris of his own on his chest, which was bleeding heavily, but he ignored it, ignored the pain that hit him with each movement.


@LadyMasquerade


Genevieve Eloise Smith


Genevieve sobbed. She wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Things were just too scary. She’d been scared to get on that flight in the first place, knowing what it meant. She was six, almost seven months pregnant, and knew the risk. She knew it meant she’d deliver her baby in London without her mother. She’d been terrified, she always had a tendency to worry a lot. But she hadn’t been scared to crash on the plane. So of course, that was what happened. She was lying on her back, her belly swollen and sticking out, and crying. She was relatively unharmed, some bumps and scrapes, but the only thing she thought was that her baby was in danger. She hadn’t gotten gender yet, she didn’t know anything. She just knew that she’d gotten in a plane crash with a human being growing inside of her.


“Mom…” She whispered, wiping away her tears frantically. The air smelled of smoke and other awful things. She had enough common sense to know that was bad. She pushed herself to her feet with some effort and hobbled away, her arms around her belly as if to protect it from any further harm. She walked as far from the plane as she could until she fell to her knees, curled up around her stomach and continuing to sob desperately. For the first time in her life, she wanted her mother to come over and protect her, to hold her and wipe her tears away. She’d always been an independent person, but right then, she just wanted help, she needed it. Under her hand, she felt a kick, and immediately and instinctively started stroking that spot. “It’s okay… We’re going to be okay. I promise.” She whispered, not sure if she could keep that promise.


She’d been dating the same guy for almost a year when she got the news that she was pregnant, which was a total shock to both of them. The guy hadn’t lied to her for a second. He was gone the day after she got the results back, and she never blamed him. Neither of them were ready. But she would never abort her child, and she couldn’t give him or her up for adoption. She’d regret it for the rest of her life. She would raise her child the best she could, there was no doubt about that. She wasn’t ready to be a mother, but she’d made the choice to the actions leading up to her pregnancy, so she’d also made the choice to handle that responsibility. For the first time in her pregnancy, lying on that beach, Genevieve regretted that decision.
 
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Kyle Mason


 


“Cody!” Kyle’s voice split the air, looking around wildly. He barely saw the carnage around him, there was only one concern on his mind. His son, only five years old, Cody. He’d been on the flight with him, and now he was nowhere in sight.


“Daddy!” Kyle finally heard the small voice from somewhere closer to the wreckage, and he ran forward without hesitation, eyes wide with terror.


“Cody!” He bellowed, finally catching sight of his son, sobbing on the ground. He slid to a halt beside him and scooped him up without a word, sprinting away from the flight wreckage. “What’s wrong, are you okay?” He panted when he’d gone a couple hundred yards away, setting his son down and inspecting him for wounds. He’d hit his head with the impact, and blood was leaking down his face, but he barely noticed.


“My arm!” Cody wailed, pointing at the cut on his upper arm. Kyle inspected it, sagging with relief. It was superficial, only painful to the young boy.


“That’s okay. That’s not bad.” He whispered gratefully. He tore a strip from his shirt and wrapped it around the small cut, stopping the minimal bleeding. Finally, he looked around, absorbing the people around the plane. “Okay, buddy. I’m going to go see if anyone needs help. You do not move from right here, okay? If anyone comes close to you, scream really loudly, and I’ll come running, okay?” He said, and Cody nodded solemnly. “Okay. Stay right here. I love you. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t move, and don’t mess with your arm.” He ordered before pushing himself back to his feet and running back toward the plane, looking around for anything he could do to help. He owned a restaurant. He was used to cooking, to managing his restaurant. Not this. He finally spotted a brunette haired woman pinned under the metal of a fragment of the wing. He sprinted over, kneeling beside her. “Don’t move. I’m going to get it off. The second I do, scoot out from under it.” He told her, checking to see how badly she was injured. It seemed like it was just the metal on her legs. “Okay. I’ll give you a count.” He said, positioning himself and gripping the slab of metal firmly.


“1… 2… 3!” He grunted, groaning as he threw all of his weight onto the chunk of the wing, teeth grit as he struggled to lift it. After a moment of trying, it slowly lifted until it was no longer pinning her. “Go!” He ordered, his entire body shaking as he struggled to keep it lifted and not drop it, which could’ve done more serious damage to her.


@LadyMasquerade
 
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Gail Gofe


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The first thing Gail was able to register was that her head hurt. Her head hurt and it was really dark. She tried moving, but it was unsuccessful, her limbs seemed stuck to her sides. The blonde had absolutely no idea where the hell she was and her memory wasn't serving her too well either. [SIZE= 14px]The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the plane, head filled with music flowing from her headphones. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14px]Plane. She was on a plane. Shit.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14px]The first outside noise Gail registered was the sound of her name. Her name being called by a very stressed sounding voice. It was familiar though she couldn't quite place why. Her head was fuzzy. Hands made  of tact with her face, causing her to be ducked back into reality from whatever dark place she'd previously been. Blue eyes fluttered open to be greeted by a familiar face. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14px]Cassandra. Her cousin. That's why the voice had been so familiar.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14px]"Cass?" Her headaughter felt like someone had dropped a dumbell on it and the sun wasn't helping,"Ah...shit. What...what the hell happened? My head is killing me." Her vision was still somewhat blurry and she didn't feel like moving her head to look around in fear of more pain. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14px]Interacting with: Cassandra @LadyMasquerade[/SIZE]
 

Tara Bismark


 


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With a sputter and a cough, Tara awoke with a violent gasp. Her lungs were on fire. Her mouth tasted like salt. Her body was twisted and laying sideways, buckled into a chair that was no longer fastened to the airframe. In fact, she could see the airplane in front of her through tear burned eyes. She had been ejected, seat and all, through a hole that split along the fuselage during the shock of the crash. Her legs were motionless under the tide, her upper body just barely making it above the shore's waterline. She thanked the lord for making her petite, had she been an inch over 5'2", the piece of shrapnel her foot gently rested on would have instead cut through her shin. 


With labored movements, the blonde teen undid the buckles that held her in, and rolled into the wet sand. Only now, as she tried rising to her feet, did her brain catch up to the surrealism of the events that had just unfolded. It was sensory overload as the sounds of people screaming mixed with the smell of smoke and the sight of burning debris littering the beach. A sharp stab caused Tara to yelp as she fell back to the ground, doubling over in pain. She had twisted her ankle. She was also just noticing the gash on her upper right thigh, it wasn't that deep but it was oozing crimson. The realization of how much pain she was in was the next to follow. 


"Help!" Tara's voice joined the chorus of bodies near the plane, though it wasn't much use crying out. She was too quiet to be heard over the rest. Survivors were running all over the place without much direction. She crawled forward a few yards through the mess of scrap that surrounded her, and summoned every last bit of strength to try standing once more. Suceeding, Tara hopped along on one foot, limping her way away from the danger. Breathless, she collapsed on her back next to a visibly pregnant woman, quietly stuttering. "Are...okkk...y-you?" She had seen the lady on the plane a few rows in front of her before departure, and remembered complimenting her when walking to her own seat. Shoot. The woman had looked scared then.


"I-its b-be gonna all r-ight, im T-tara," Tara wanted to console the older woman, but she couldn't seem to get the words out. It was all a garbled murmur as she stared at the sky. The blonde girl had already torn a strip from the bottom of her stained and tattered dress, loosely fitting it around her own cut, but try as she might she couldn't manage the strength to pull it tight. Everything was spinning. Her head was floating. She was shaking and sweating. It was just so...cold.


@CtrlAltDelicious (Genevieve)
 
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Vince Brennan


Mentions: Open 


 


It had been the first time in his twenty five years on the planet that he'd ever boarded an airplane. There was no need to before- most of his family lived in Iowa or Illinois, so they were never more than a roadtrip away. If he wanted a change of scenery from corn and soybeans, he could go visit his uncle's apple orchard, or his cousin's potato farm. Sure, he'd have to work, but then he'd get free food and board, along with precious family time. But after a while, it became boring. The small towns lost their appeal as he knew most people who lived near his family's farms, and had seemingly dated everyone he could. Seeking change, Vince moved to Chicago and found a small apartment, worked at some scummy diner and tried to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. This proved difficult. He'd never really had job aspirations- from a young age he'd been expected to be a farmer, so he blindly stumbled through school until he graduated and could work full time. Although he applied to many jobs, there was never any reply, or the job would go to some college graduate and he'd just seethe from behind the grill. When he was fired from his job, his entire world came crashing down. Determined not to go crawling back to his family, he packed a bag and went to the airport, having pulled out all his savings, and got on the first flight to a different country.


As consciousness returned to him, the events of the past few months came flooding back to him, working back to just before the crash. After boarding, nervousness set in, causing his entire body to shake and him to question the woman who sat beside him incessantly. She'd given him a sleeping pill to calm him down, which knocked him out almost immediately. Opening his eyes, all he could see and feel was pressure. The seats in front were crushing him, fire closing in around and a small voice told him to just give up. Never one to quit whilst he was ahead, a wave of determination (or stubbornness) washed over him. With a grunt, Vince slid his arms up against the seat in front, pushing with all the strength he could muster to try and escape. It moved a small amount, so he had enough room to breathe, although as he released, it moved right back with him. His nose was filled with the smell of burning flesh and smoke, which just drove him on more, he was not going to be beaten by a fucking airplane. 


Lifting his arms once more, he pushed the seat far enough for him to pull his legs to his chest, then placed his feet flat on the seat. Bracing himself on the back of his own seat, Vince began to kick in front of him with both legs, forcing his entire body weight over and over until he was able to get enough room to wriggle out. There was no sign of the woman who'd sat beside him, except a puddle of blood. His small, tatty backpack lay at his feet, covered in more blood and god knows what else, so he seized it as he made his escape. Able to hear some shouting through the ringing in his ears, he moved towards it, away from where his seat was becoming part of the bonfire. Spaced out, the man ran his fingers across his body, and felt instant flashes of pain. Around his neck and shoulders, the fabric of his shirt just wasn't there, it had burnt off. The skin beneath felt warm, slightly sticky, but above all else it seared and hurt like a bitch. In tatters of a shirt, smeared with ash and blood, he staggered onto the sand, turning to look at the fragments of plane all around. The part he'd emerged from was held together pretty well, three or four rows, with a bend right through the middle at almost a right angle, a fire blazing through it. 
 

Addison Waters, Caleb Williams, Adrian Williams


 


Addison stared helplessly at the man on the sand, whose gut was impaled by the shrapnel. "Okay. Adrian, we're going to keep your brother alive, alright? Just trust me." She told the man's brother, who nodded. "If we pull out the shrapnel, he'll bleed to death, we need him stabilized until we get rescued. For one, we need him away from the plane. The smoke will kill him if we don't." She advised, looking around for a safe place for the man when she noticed two women a bit away from the crash, one of which looked... Pregnant? "Over there. That should be far enough away." She said. "I'll get his legs, you get his upper body. When we lift, it'll hurt him, but he should stay unconscious. If he doesn't, it is imperative that he stays completely still, do you understand me?" She demanded, and he nodded again. She gripped Caleb's legs firmly as he wrapped his arms around his brother's chest. "1... 2... 3!" She grunted, lifting up the man. He was so damned heavy. Both of the brothers were incredibly fit, it was clear, but she was not. She spent her days moving as little as possible, doing surgeries not lifting weights. Any free time was spent researching. Adrian clearly had no troubles, but Addison was struggling.


 


The second his abdomen was jostled, an agonized groan left Caleb's mouth, and Adrian faltered for a second before continuing to carry his brother away, Addison struggling to keep up. "Keep him steady." She panted, looking at the two women again. Neither of them looked to be in the best condition, but she'd have to focus on the biggest concern. She spotted the young man she'd met before, Aeron, bent over a man who wasn't moving. "Aeron! Come on, I need your help!" She shouted, and the guy immediately scrambled over.


 


"I think that guy was dead." He breathed, looking pale and slightly sick.


 


"And this one will follow if you don't help me. Get his legs." She ordered, and he immediately switched places with her. "You got him? Good. Okay, right here." She murmured as they reached the two women. "Set him down carefully, keep him level." She directed as they slowly lowered the man. "Caleb, apply more pressure to the wound, make sure the bleeding has stopped, okay?" She ordered, kneeling down between the women quickly. "Are you two okay? Here, let me see that cut." She murmured, seeing the bleeding thigh of the blonde. "Don't move. This bandage has to be tighter. This will hurt." She didn't wait for the girl's approval before tightening the bandage, one hand covering the cut to help staunch the bleeding. "My name is Addison. You're going to be okay. Hey, look at me. How far along in your pregnancy are you?" She asked the pregnant woman.


 



 


Aeron Nerezzo


 


Aeron left Addison when she seemed to get things under control, stumbling away from the area. He found himself mildly secluded and immediately emptied the contents of his stomach, feeling sick. He slowly recovered and looked around, squinting through the smoke filled air. The smell of fire was overpowering, of burning people. He sprinted back toward the crash, intent on helping someone, anyone, when he tripped on something harder than sand. He went sprawling, face-first, into the ground, getting a mouthful of sand as he did so. He sat up and spat out the sand quickly, gagging, before looking back at what had tripped him.


 


"Oh, shit." He breathed, seeing the flash of skin. A hand, the only part of the body that was visible. It was sheer luck that he'd tripped over it. "Is someone under there?" He called, trying to peer under the seat with no luck. "I'm going to lift this thing off of you. Try not to move." He called again, staring at the seat. If he pushed it wrong, he could crush the person under it. So his option was clear. He wouldn't push, he'd pull it away, toward the clear area, and hope he didn't hurt the person further. "Get ready. The second you're clear, try to get out." He directed, not even sure if the person was alive or not. He got a firm grip on the seat, looking around as he did so. "Alright... Now!" He grunted, throwing all of his strength into yanking the seat off, his teeth grit. He'd never been more thankful to his manager, who'd ordered that he go to the gym at least four times a week to get a good body and hopefully more roles. He wasn't exactly buff, but he was strong enough to pull the seat off, groaning in exertion.


 

 

Solange Montgomery


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As she felt the metal piece crush her lower limbs it was cutting her blood circulation from going down her legs to her feet and back up, which led to a point of numbness. She thought that was it. Losing her limbs to a metal piece that was sinking in on them as gravity proceeded to act on it. She could hear background noises. Other passengers  that were in pain, scared to death and some hurrying to seek and aid those who survived the plane crash. However she saw nothing but the metal piece which was blocking her view. Not that there was a view she'd enjoy as the scenario was pretty much a wreck. She couldn't even turn her head without feeling the pain. True it was numb but when she shifted her head, her back did as well and it automatically shifts a little her legs and the slightest movements simply made it painful as hell - flash of pain rather.


After what felt like long minutes under it she felt a sudden shift in the air around her, suddenly taking notice that a male had rushed in to help her, "I've been stuck under this piece of junk from the start. If I had to move... I would have." she was in pain, major pain. It was not really Solange talking there but the pain. She was nothing but grateful that someone came to her aid. Despite not being severely hurt like others around her but her limbs... if she could move them after they were released she'd be surprised.


As he instructed her through on what to do on which queue she nodded, "Alright..." she confirmed with voice as she seen him readying himself to lift. As he counted for her she readied herself to slide. She felt the metal freeing her limbs as he strained to keep it elevated. As he elevated enough the slightest opening she slipped off and away from it. "I'm out!" she exclaimed as quick as possible so her can release it and stop the strain.


As her limbs felt circulation run through them, that's when the pain hit her all over her shins. It hit hard causing her to wince and biting her lower lip. "Thank you, I would've ended up leg less if it wasn't for you. I excuse myself for my tone." she said as she clutched her shins. Her eyes were watery as she swore she bit to hard as she could taste something metallic. 


Mentions: N/A


Conversing with @Kiss My Axe (Kyle)


Aria Mikami


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That's it, she thought. I'm gonna die... stranded at sea. 


It was what haunted most of her nightmare ever since she was a little kid till this very day. She never grasped the idea as to how and why she wanted to be a marine biologist when her job had gotten her near waters most of the time. The female feared water ever since she was young. Not the sight of water or simply  dipping a finger but the thought of being fully immersed under water is what freaks her out. Hence why  she was clinging for dear life on top of the piece of metal which was only sinking slowly with her weight.


She was trembling, her arms badly quivering. Aria didn't ever hear someone approach her until he was right under her nose. Her vision was not the clearest as her glasses had been slightly crooked and bit cracked from the bottom, she was thankful for that. If they were completely eliminated it wouldn't really a problem due to the fact it as for long distances since she is short sighted which was another reason why she didn't see the male until he spoke and was near her. As the stranger grasped the debris and asked her if she was alright she spoke her voice laced with fear, "N-n-not hurt. C-can't swim," she did not really hide the fact she did not know how to swim. Especially not in this particular point.


As he was dragging them both to shore she did her best to try and sway her arms to aid him with the rough currents as they were far out. Sifting other debris away from them as best as she could. For the major part  she had been rooted to the metal piece with fear. Noticing a sudden darkened coloration of the area of water around them mainly around him she noticed he was bleeding. "...You're bleeding," Aria stated the obvious as she realized she should have bit her tongue. It was obvious that he was aware of that.  However she did note that he was still aiding her despite he was hurt himself. The closer they got towards shore she realized that people were aiding each other trying their best to save one another. If it wasn't for him she would be floating to god knows where.


Mentions: N/A
Conversing with @CtrlAltDelicious (Hunter)


Arielle DeVito


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As he called there was no response to his call. Nothing. Arielle had been already passed out ever since the impact. His second order was not to move which she was nailing quite very well. That being said the debris was simply suffocating her and the smell of burning flesh that was surrounding everywhere was not quite aiding her either. As the seat was yanked off it revealed the red-headed female crushed under it, badly bruised by the impact, her pulse was slow almost absent due to the lack of oxygen she had. She had almost died of suffocation but she was not in the safe zone just yet. She remained motionless in the very curled position she landed on. Almost lifeless.


This way with his help the female now had somewhat source of oxygen which accessible to her lungs. Aiding her to get back on track but she had still had a heart pace although her breathing was very uneven, if not absent.


Mentions: @Play On Words (Aeron)


Cassandra Moore Goft


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As her cousin fluttered her eyes open she let out a sigh of relief, "Oh thank god you're still alive." She let out as she gently elevated her head just a bit for circulation. She looked around her as she saw the grime and wreckage that had just been caused. "I'm afraid grandma is going to have to wait for a while before she sees us. If she does." her mouth formed a frown. Both girls had been planning on spending some time with their grandmother in London - it had been years since they last saw her. 


"The plane crashed, that's all I know. I'm just as clueless as you are right now." the blonde muttered as her chocolate brown eyes looked down at her. "Why is it always something goes wrong whenever we try to do something together? That unlucky?"


The sudden smell, very unpleasant smell had reached her nasal pathways which irked her face, it was making her stomach turn and the protein shake she had for breakfast to quickly trail back up. She got on her knees and hand and faced away as she barfed up all that she had consumed. She had a weak stomach after all.


Mentions: N/A


Conversing with @Iskolde (Gail) 
 

Genevieve Eloise Smith


 


Genevieve remained shaking, sobbing on the sand when the other girl approached, slowly lifting her head. "Genevieve." She choked out, struggling to wipe her tears away. It wasn't pain or fear that really had her emotional. It was the damned hormones, the shock. She forced herself into a sitting position, her jaw dropping slightly when four more people approached, two supporting one of them and the fourth giving orders. The third man had a chunk of metal sticking out of his gut, and one of the men carrying him looked near identical to him. Twins, then. The other man looked vaguely familiar, but she only connected the pieces after he'd ran off. "Was that Aeron Nerezzo?" She asked blearily, referring to the famous actor who'd been climbing the charts for years as a well known face in many hit movies.


 


She jerked back to attention when the blonde woman seemed to ask her a question, and blinked once or twice. "Pregnancy... Almost seven months." She said, coming to her senses. "I knew I shouldn't have flown, but it was my last chance... Is he okay?" She asked, eyes wide as she looked at the man who'd been impaled. Her breathing quickened, her pupils dilating slightly. "I feel sick." She muttered. The smell in the air was putrid, and her eyes burned from the smoke. She dragged herself away from the group as quickly as she could before losing what little was in her stomach, not doing much to soothe her nausea.


 



 


Hunter and Skye Alya


 


Hunter grit his teeth, struggling to continue swimming. Her notice that he was bleeding made him smirk despite himself. "Really? That's news to me." He chuckled, showing his usual, strange humor in dark circumstances. "I'm fine." It was a weak lie, far too obvious. Even with his shirt mostly covering the wound, the amount of blood coming out of the cut was not a good sign. Each time he moved his arm to continue swimming, it pulled at the wound, and he had to suppress a groan of pain. "We're almost there. Just keep... Going."


 


Suddenly, his burden lifted slightly, and he looked around. Somehow, he'd missed his sister swimming out toward them, albeit a bit clumsily. Unlike him, she was not athletic. She did her best to help drag the debris, also trying to keep her head above water. He sacrificed speed to keep her afloat, wrapping his other hand around her to keep her up. "Keep kicking." He choked out.


 


"You're bleeding." She noticed, and he sighed.


 


"Really, you guys? You think I don't know that?" He demanded, his skin a bit pale. "Come on, keep swimming." He ordered, kicking his legs as hard as he could. After what felt like an eternity, he finally felt sand under his feet. "A bit further, you'll be able to stand." He urged on his sister, who nodded. She was shorter than him, so it wasn't as easy for her. But just moments later, her head rose a bit higher, and he saw some of the strain leave her face. "That's it. Come on, get it ashore." He grunted, yanking the board up with both hands, relinquishing his grip on Skye as he did so, until it was on dry land. Immediately, he fell to one knee, feeling slightly dizzy, and collapsed face-first in the sand.


 

 

Kyle and Cody Mason


 


Kyle didn't seem fazed by her rude tone, waiting until she said she was free before dropping the metal, his arms aching as he did so. He ignored the pain, approaching the woman. "We have to get you out of this smoke. I'm going to pick you up." He warned, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her with ease, although his sore arms complained slightly. He jogged back toward where he'd left Cody, who was busying himself making sand castles without even noticing the carnage around him.


 


"Daddy, look! There's you and me and mommy!" Cody squealed when he saw his father approaching. Kyle, of course, did the thing every parent did when their child told them to look at something. A cursory glance that lasted no more than a second and a smile.


 


"It looks great, buddy. Why don't you add the puppies?" He advised as a way to keep him occupied, and Cody immediately started working on three more unrecognizable lumps that he would claim were their dogs. The ease of imagination it was to be a five year old.


 


"Who's she?" Cody chirped curiously, pointing at the woman as Kyle set her on the sand.


 


"Don't point, Cody, it's rude." Kyle said absently. "Let me look at your legs." He muttered, inspecting her shins. They didn't look great but they certainly looked better than they would've if she hadn't gotten out of there. At least they were attached. "You'll probably be fine, although I wouldn't suggest standing any time soon." He advised, lying back on the sand next to Cody and letting the emotions wash over him. His son was safe. That was all that mattered to him. They'd be rescued soon, but as long as his son was safe, he didn't care what happened to himself or anyone else.


 

 

Gail Gofe 


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Gail had been busy thinking on why exactly Cassandra and herself always did have bad luck, when her cousin suddenly turned away and Gails head hit the sand. Gail sat up quickly, which turned out to not be the greatest of ideas as a shot of sharp pain ran through her head. She managed to push through and and approach her cousin on her knees. 


"You okay?" Gail could smell whatever had made Cassandra hack up, of course, she was just used to bad smells, came with having a roommate who likes to expirement. Gail placed a hand on her cousins back and offered a sympathetic look before looking back up and taking in the sight around her. Blonde eyebrows drew together at the reckage and the tattered people trying to gather themselves. 


"Well, at least we're not alone. Someone's gotta know how to get us outta here." She managed a smile as she looked back down at Cassandra,"We'd be totally screwed if we were alone." 


Interacting with: Cassandra @LadyMasquerade
 

Sawyer Mills




     "Fuck, I can't breathe."


These were Sawyer's first words after the plane had crashed. She was on the ground, and her left arm was twisted behind her back in such a way that as soon as Sawyer came to, she let out a loud scream followed by many more curses. Around her were people crying, and what was left of the second plane she had boarded in the past 24 hours. Sawyer scrambled to her feet, still catching her breath with quick, deep inhales and whimpering exhales. As she got up she tried to move her arm, which resulted in her crying out in pain once more. She was further away from the plane than most people, and she was surprised that her only injury was her arm; she hadn't noticed the blood running down her forehead or the scrapes and burns on her legs. Sawyer tried to keep her arm still as she walked towards two people. One of them was a girl, red-haired, lying on the sand. Unconscious. The other person was a man, standing over the girl.
"Damn, is she okay?" Was the only thing that Sawyer could mutter out.



@Play On Words@LadyMasquerade
 

Tara Bismarck


 


Mentioning: @Play On Words


Interacting with: @CtrlAltDelicious


 


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Tara winced as the woman tightened her bandage, but she was most thankful, even if she didn't say anything in response before the woman turned to the pregnant lady beside her. Tara was lost at the sight of the wreckage which seemed to go on forever. All those poor souls, and she didn't have the strength nor the knowledge to help. At least, knowing that she wasn't dying was enough to clear the worst symptoms of phsyiological shock from her system. 


Lying in the sand, she clasped her hands and began to pray. She prayed for healing, she prayed for deliverance, she prayed for swift rescue. Not for herself, but for those around her. It was so sad, she couldn't even attempt to try and halt the waterworks streaming down her face. Tragedy was all over the place. 


She was broken from her trance by the sound of the pregnant lady, Genivieve, getting up, and Tara glanced to see her doubling over by herself. The eighteen year old may have been new to the college scene back home, but her roommate had been enough of a partier for Tara to inference what would come next.


She forced herself up onto her good leg and limped over to hold Genivieve's hair back as the woman emptied her stomach's contents all over the ground. It looked gross, but the smoke had long since overtaken Tara's nasal senses. She held back her reflex to gag. 
 

Vince Brennan


Mentions: Open


 


Disoriented, he made his way up the sandy bank, past people vomiting and bleeding and screaming and crying. With a hand he clamped his nose shut from the smoke's awful scent and walked until the air was clearer. Everyone else's first instinct was to look for ways off the island, but he just needed to clear his head away from the carnage of the plane, with its twisted and shattered body. All he could feel was the pain in his back, the nausea bubbling in his stomach, the joy that he was alive. As he finally removed his hand from where it was pinching his nose, Vince allowed himself a few deep breaths and dropped onto the ground, bag beside him. Other breaths came with ease, forced out of his mouth until it nearly resembled laughter, then until it became laughter. "I...I made it! I survived! I'm alive, I'm alive I'm alive I'malive imaliveimaliveimaliveimalive I am alive!" Tears formed in his eyes as awareness finally hit him, chuckling softly to himself upon the bank, away from the madness and the mayhem. Laying his back against the sand, he momentarily glanced at the sky, admiring the blue behind a cloud of black smoke, until the pain of his back against the sand proved too much.


Sitting up once more he observed the people a little down below for a while, listened in to the whispered conversations and the scattered cries of pain. With a wince of pain, Vince pulled off what remained of his shirt and tied it over his nose and mouth, to form a barrier between him and the smoke. He'd always hated being sick, and the stench was sure to make him puke if there was nothing to protect him. Then he made his way back down, glancing about for anyone who he could help, who needed his help, who wanted his help. It must have looked strange, a 6"5 man covered in ash and blood,  with a singed shirt tied around his face, returning to the shore, a tattered rucksack dangling limply from his hand. He stepped in someone's vomit on his way and let out a sound of disgust before trying to wipe it off in the sand. This, naturally, only led to a very sandy shoe and a worse mood.
 

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